


Lost and Found

by aseriesofessays



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Ghost Heather Chandler, ghost veronica, it's technically major character death but i won't tag it as that bc it lasts for like 2 seconds, okay i cried a little bit while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 18:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseriesofessays/pseuds/aseriesofessays
Summary: Veronica gets older.Heather had never really considered that part.





	Lost and Found

Veronica gets older.

Heather hadn't considered that, really- she's seventeen, with smooth skin and curled hair and eyes that are still bright. Her teeth are blue with drano but the skin of her neck is taut and her lips are full and plump.

And Veronica gets older.

She first starts to really notice when wrinkles appear around Veronica's eyes when she laughs, and don't go away when she reads, and when she needs to get glasses, and when her pretty dark hair is shot through with grey. She first starts to notice when Veronica's sitting in bed, drinking wine and reading, and she's all alone and Heather has a sudden, vivid pang- where's her husband, and her kids, and her happy life?

She starts to notice when Veronica gets out of bed and puts a hand on her back, and when age spots instead of freckles decorate her cheeks, and-

Veronica's sixty years old, and Heather's seventeen, and she's watched her best friend (her murderer?) grow up.

\---

Veronica's seventy when she lies in the sterile hospital bed, dying. Heather wants to feel vindicated- finally, _finally_ , it's like a little revenge- but there are tears dripping down her cheeks. Veronica looks _old_ , white haired and wrinkly and pale, and she's all alone in the hospital room. Heather wants to tell her that she's _not_ , but she knows by now Veronica can't hear. She's nearly deaf, half blind, and even if she wasn't she couldn't see Heather. Still, Heather settles into bed with her, gripping tightly to her hand.

Veronica had lived a good life, Heather thinks- she doesn't really know how to judge it, she'd never seen many happy adults, but Veronica had gone to college and gotten a degree and visited Heather's grave every year to put red roses on it. She'd had friends, gone to art shows, dated a little- always with a guilty look to the side, like someone could be watching her.

And she'd smiled, and she'd laughed, and she'd never gone on the extensive juice cleanses that Heather's mother used to go on. She'd been kind to children and gotten a cat.

Veronica had looked happy, and she'd lived a good life, but now she's dying alone.

Heather had died alone, too.

She's crying before she realizes it, real sobs shaking her body, smoothing the hair away from Veronica's forehead with a hand that can't quite make contact. Her hand is still so smooth, so young, and Veronica's wrinkly and old, and she strokes Veronica's hair until she falls asleep.

\---

Veronica dies the next day.

Heather has been pacing the whole time, the heart monitor too sluggish for her taste- she doesn't know what she's going to do when Veronica's gone. She thinks she's been waiting around for her, anyway, but what if she's stuck here? She'll probably find Mac, stick around her, but-

She doesn't want to leave Veronica. She's been following her around for fifty years. How can she just-

The heart monitor misses a beat, and Heather jolts up.

Veronica's sleeping peacefully- her meal tray is sitting to the side, and her blanket is pulled up. Heather goes over and fusses at her, managing to budge a few strands of hair so they lie nicer.

The monitor misses another beat.

Heather's crying again before she can stop herself, head in her hands- god, this is her only friend.

The heart monitor flatlines, and Heather sobs, and that's the only sound in the room.

And then a pair of arms wrap around her from behind.

She freezes, the sob catching in her throat with shock- the arms are young, smooth skinned and freckled.

She turns.

Veronica's standing behind her, and Heather hasn't seen her like this in so long- seventeen years old, hair dark again, eyes wide and gleaming and skin healthy and tight across her face. She grins at Heather, and Heather can feel the tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh my fucking god, _Ronnie_ ," she breathes, and flings herself into Veronica arms- it's such a relief to be touching someone, and to be feeling warm, solid skin under her arms, that she squeezes her tighter and sobs.

"Missed me, Chandler?" Veronica teases, the smile in her voice evident, and Heather laughs wetly.  
  
"God, Veronica, you look so young," she says, shaking her head instead of admitting it- she wipes away the tears in her eyes, runs her hands through Veronica's dark hair to make sure it's real.

"And you look exactly the same," Veronica says, eyes soft. "Hey. I missed you too."

Heather envelopes her into a hug again so she doesn't have to reply- god, she'd missed Veronica.

And now they get to stick together.

**Author's Note:**

> so here's the deal: 
> 
> lord-of-isolation sent an ask to abotrash as follows:  
> "I JUST HAD A SAD THOUGHT. Ghost Chandler watching over Ronnie even after high school, and she watches her grow to be an adult. Cut to Ron old and dying and Chandler crying cause let's face it, Ron was probably her only friend. Ron dies, and then Chandler feels arms around her. It's seventeen year old ronnie"
> 
> gentle tears appeared in my eyes and i asked abotrash if i could write it, they said yes, i wrote it 
> 
> my tumblr is ilovemydeadgaywife.tumblr.com, send me some solid prompts there and also follow me bc i'm thirsty for followers


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